


the weight of living

by trichoglossus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mental Illness, Nothing too explicit, Parental Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Suicidal Ideation, vague suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 15:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trichoglossus/pseuds/trichoglossus
Summary: Sometimes the weight in his chest, the gravity that pulls him down, creeps up without him noticing. Sometimes, it is banished just as easily.Or, Tony Stark is better at helping Peter than either of them suspect.





	the weight of living

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a vent work, as today’s not been the best and I needed to get some of it out. It has not been proofread.
> 
> Also: I know that my other work Chasing Ghosts got a lot of attention, and I haven’t forgotten about it. But it’s hard to find time, energy, and motivation to write.
> 
> NOTE: There are some vague suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation. Please be aware of this and take care of yourself.

Sometimes, the day starts out okay. He wakes up, he gets out of bed on the first alarm. He eats breakfast. He kisses Aunt May’s cheek as he runs out the door. 

 

But somewhere, something goes wrong. Peter knows it is something inside of him. It’s not the world’s fault, it’s no one around him, it’s just him. His brain crossing wires and shorting out sockets. 

 

By the time Peter gets home from school, there is a heaviness in him. It envelops his chest, his limbs, his head. It weighs him down. Peter feels exhausted despite only having gone to school and back. It shouldn’t have taken this much out of him. On a good day, he goes to school, patrols for hours in the afternoon, and still has the energy to do homework and spend time with May.

 

And yet, on days like today, it’s all he can do to keep his thoughts from straying towards forbidden pathways. He forces himself to ignore the whispers that creep in behind his skull, whispers of  _ you deserve this _ , and  _ you should hurt yourself,  _ and  _ things would be better off without you— _

 

No. No, he can’t think like that. May needs him, Ned needs him, Mr. Stark… probably doesn’t need him. He has Pepper and Colonel Rhodes and Happy. He doesn’t need some nerdy fanboy following him around and dogging his footsteps and bothering him with stupid questions and.

 

Peter’s phone is buzzing. He is drawn out of his mind almost immediately. He had been so out of it that he could barely remember entering his apartment and lying in bed. His hands are pressed against his eyelids, his face screwed up with tension, and there is a headache looming behind his eyes. His room is dark apart from his phone screen, which says —

 

_ Incoming call from Tony Stark. _

 

Of course. 

 

It’s like the guy can read his mind or something, which, he  _ is _ a superhero, but mindreading is a little out there.

 

Peter stares at the phone screen.

 

He lets the call ring out. When the screen goes dark, he releases a breath that he hadn’t noticed had been stuck in his chest.

 

He stares at the ceiling. 

 

His phone begins buzzing again.

 

Suddenly Peter is mad. Why won’t Mr. Stark leave him alone? He doesn’t want to talk to him, doesn’t want to talk to anyone except maybe Uncle Ben, who has always been best at cheering him up but  _ Ben is gone and it’s all your fault so you should just leave so everyone else in your life is safe from you — _

 

Peter picks up the phone and answers the call with a jerky swipe of his finger. “What,” he snaps.

 

There is silence on the other end of the line, and suddenly Peter Parker (some random kid from Queens who has  _ Tony Stark’s personal phone number _ ) is yanked back into reality, and realizes who he is snapping at.

 

“Oh my— oh my god, Mr. Stark, I, uh—“ Peter is a stuttering mess, frantically trying to backtrack. “I’m so sorry, I thought that— I thought someone else was calling, I’m—“

 

Tony clears his throat, and Peter stops talking. His eyes start to water.  _ This is it, you’ve ruined one of the only good things in your life, Mr. Stark is going to realize what an idiot you are. _

 

“Well, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting that level of teenage sass, but I’m glad to hear you’re alive, kid.” 

 

The man’s tone is sarcastic, teasing, but there is an underlying level of concern.

 

Peter takes a moment to wrap his head around that. “I’m sorry?” he says, not actually apologizing for once.

 

Tony exhales. “Today’s Friday, kid. Friday? The day before the weekend? The day you’ve been coming over to the workshop every week for the past three months? Is this ringing a bell?”

 

“...oh.” 

 

“Yeah, oh. You’re lucky I saw that your phone was taking the subway home and didn’t find it necessary to come after you in a suit.”

 

Peter winces, picturing Iron Man blasting open a subway train to figure out why he was skipping out on lab time.

 

“I’m really sorry Mr. Stark, I just— I was running on autopilot, you know? And I’m really tired and I think I just. I don’t think I’d have been able to concentrate in the lab, anyway.” _. _

 

“Hey, no real harm done, Pete. Though you may want to bring Happy an apology-sandwich sometime soon, since he waited in the parking lot for you for an hour.”

 

Peter winces again. “I’ll text him and tell him sorry.”

 

“Sure. But you sure you’re okay, kid? You sounded kinda… not yourself, at first.”

 

Peter rubs at his eyes and sighs. “Yeah. Just a long day. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

 

“No need for that. You want to take a nap and come over later tonight, or skip this weekend?”

 

He thinks about it. “Can I take a nap and then decide?”

 

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’ll, uh… text you in a little bit, then?”

 

Tony hums affirmatively. “And you feel better. I can’t have my number one intern falling asleep on the job. What would that do to my company’s image?”

 

That actually gets a laugh out of Peter. “Mr. Stark, I’m not even a real intern. And besides, I think you do enough to your company’s ‘image’ without my help.”

 

“Oh! The nerve of this kid!” Tony says in a mock offended tone. 

 

Peter laughs more, a genuine smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Goodnight, Mr. Stark. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“See ya, kid.”

 

And as Peter drifts off in the familiar dark of his room, it occurs to him that the weight in his chest has drawn back, chastised. 

 

He smiles, and sleeps.


End file.
